The Queen of Blood Read Free Page B

do?”
    â€œFirst, we fix up your father.” Returning to Daddy, Mama opened his vest and peeled his shirt away from blood-sticky skin. “And then we go out and see.”
    â€œSee what?”
    â€œIf there’s anyone left,” Mama said.
    Arin began to cry again.
    Wordless, Daleina helped Mama, fetching water from the kitchen sink, as well as bandages and herbs as instructed. Mama washed out the wounds—there were many—on Daddy’s neck, legs, arm. His thick clothes had blocked some of the bites, making them bruises instead of punctures, but there were still so many that his once-white shirt was speckled red all over. While Mama worked, Daleina listened for the sounds of their neighbors—surely someone had seen Daddy rush in, injured—but no one came to check on them or help them. She thought of the man in green she’d seen, or imagined.
    â€œSpirits aren’t supposed to hurt people,” Arin said, her eyes glued to the bandages and Daddy’s shirt. “The queen won’t let them.”
    â€œI know, baby,” Mama said.
    â€œWhy did she let them?” Arin asked.
    â€œMaybe she couldn’t stop them this time,” Daleina said. “Maybe she was sick or distracted. Maybe she didn’t know what they were doing. Maybe the spirits decided we’re too far from the capital for her to know.” And maybe they’re right, she thought.
    â€œBut she’s the queen,” Arin said. “She’s supposed to keep us all safe.”
    â€œWe aren’t safe here,” Daddy said. “We need to find the forest guards, before the spirits come back. Alert them to the danger. Tell them there may be villagers who need healers.” The fact that Daddy was able to say so much without gasping for air made Daleina feel better. She had her parents, whole and safe, and they’d take care of her and Arin. Everything would be all right, and this would become one of those stories that Rosasi told at night.
    After Mama bandaged Daddy up as well as she could, she rigged the basket on the pulley—the one they used to lift heavy supplies from the forest floor—and climbed in. “Everyone, in. We stay together. Daleina . . .” Mama hesitated. “The spirits listened to you. Can you make them listen again, if you have to?”
    All three of them looked at Daleina, and she shrank back. No, their parents were supposed to take care of them, not the other way around! She’d just begun to feel safe. “I . . . I don’t know.” She didn’t know how she’d done it, or why it had worked. She’d never been able to command spirits before, and no one in her family had ever shown any affinity for them. Maybe it was a fluke. Or a coincidence. Maybe it wasn’t her at all.
    â€œYou can do it,” Mama said. “You did it once; you can do it again.”
    Daddy smiled at her—a weak ghost of a smile, but Daleina saw it as she climbed into the basket, alongside Mama and Arin. “We always knew you were special,” he said.
    Arin stuck out her lower lip. “I’m special too.”
    â€œOf course, Arin.” He smiled at her, a real one this time, as he climbed in with them, and then as Mama lowered the basket, his smile faded.
    From the basket, it was clear that of the twenty homes that used to fill the village’s tree, theirs was the only one left. All the others had been torn from their branches and then ripped apart and scattered on the forest floor. Kitchen tables, pantries, food, bowls, cups . . . beds, chests, toys, sheets, clothes . . . all the innards of two dozen homes were spilled below the trees and mixed together. Daleina saw the strand of laundry, clothes tangled in it, that belonged to old Mistress Hamby. And then she saw MistressHamby, her body twisted by what was once a door. Her eyes were open. She was missing her arm, and her chest . . . Daleina